small.town.girl

We celebrated Dan’s birthday at the beach, but for my birthday I wanted to do something special to me. Twenty-five being a symbolic age, I wanted to do something “grown up.” My idea was to rekindle my romance with the Eastern Shore and visit Washington College now that I’ve gained some distance from it. There was also supposed to be a music festival on campus (which never came to fruition). Little did I know when planning this trip, however, that Chestertown no longer felt like home to me. I’d felt it a bit on previous visits, like when I saw the new dorms for the first time. However, this visit was to a different campus. I recognized so few faces, and I’ve known for some time that the general make up of the student body has changed since I was there. Needless to say, after our 90 minute drive to town, I was nonplussed. After visiting a few friends and grabbing lunch at one of the restaurants I miss most, Procolino’s, Dan and I departed for Rock Hall, a town 20 minutes to the west and right on the bay. While debating where to stay when we originally planned this trip, we’d considered the hotels in Chestertown, but I ended up deciding on a whim that I wanted to stay at a bed and breakfast–one in particular. The Inn at Huntingfield Creek had a website that lured me in and promised relaxation and comfort, and I thought it would be close enough to Chestertown that we could go back and forth between the two with ease.

When we finally arrived at the bed and breakfast, I tried to shake the foul mood that Chestertown’s changes had caused. The long driveway led up to a beautiful house, and as we pulled into a parking space, the awkward kicked in. did we go in the front door? How do we announce ourselves? Questions even Google can’t answer always rush into my head at inopportune times; they make interacting in the real world difficult because while I’m really just petrified with fear over doing or saying the wrong thing, it often comes across as rudeness. Luckily, in this case, there were three dogs to announce our arrival and one of the innkeepers–Jim–was quick to intercept us and give us a tour. He greeted Dan as the “person who asked the most pre-stay questions ever.” In Dan’s defense, most of the questions were mine. I’d started having nerves about the trip as soon as I’d given my credit card information, and Dan swooped in to help ease my overactive imagination’s fears.

The property of the Inn at Huntingfield Creek was absolutely gorgeous even though our stay fell on the cusp of fall. The path to the dock was bordered by soybeans and sunflowers. The field of sunflowers–probably majestic in the summer–were going to seed. The leaves of the trees were threatening to change colors, and some crunched under our feet. Inside, our room looked just as it did online. We had a large bed an an antique bathtub. The blue was rich and gave the room a relaxing vibe. Since it was too early for dinner, we thought we’d take our books down to the bay to enjoy the sunset. We set out, Dan with his Nikon and me with Sedars and King in my purse. The walk took us through those fields and a wooded area before opening up to bay grasses. However, the Chesapeake was so happy to see us that it tried to come up to greet us; the water had cut off access to the dock, and mocked us by seeping up further as we stood there. We returned an hour later after settling for secluded chairs by the pond and the scene was worse. Fish swam in the path, and our shoes squished in the grass. The sunset was breathtaking, and it symbolized that we needed to grab food. At the advice of our innkeepers, we went to a local restaurant called Harbor Shack for dinner. My entrée was basic, but our appetizer was scrumptious. I wanted to give myself a facial with that crab dip! After dinner, we drove to the ice cream shop down town, debating its hours and where to park. A young girl scooped our Butterfinger cones and gave me a cup of water after overhearing me talking about needing to take a pill. she complimented the purse Kate bought me in New Zealand, prompting me to make awkward conversation.

One of the many great things about the bed and breakfast was the bed. Aside from the down duvets (which I discovered I was allergic to), there was a cozy quilt and fluffy pillows. And because our room didn’t have an actual TV, we watched an episode of Fringe on Dan’s laptop and settled in for a night of serious slumber. There’s something to be said for not having a television available; we slept soundly in complete peace without any distraction. In the morning, we could hear movement downstairs and smell bacon cooking. It was a gentle way to wake up compared to the screeching cell phone alarm I’m used to. The spread at breakfast was impressive. Breakfast basics–bacon, eggs, toast–a coffee streusel, a peach/basil bake and chicken sausage, The following morning, we were greeted with the same basics and Joanne’s famous berry bread pudding. To this day, I regret taking only one helping each morning.

Our Saturday plans weren’t too strict. The only thing we had scheduled was a sunset cruise around the bay at 6:15. We decided to explore the nature preserve on Eastern Neck Island with Dan’s camera and some binoculars. We started at the visitors’ center where we picked up a map. Behind the building there was a short path that ended with a observation blind in a wooded area from which we could see the bay and the bay bridge. Perhaps in a different season, this area would be teeming with wildlife, but today it was fairly quiet. I used Dan’s Nikon binoculars to scan the edge of the water and spotted a few birds; Dan used his Nikon D90 to photograph the large spiders living in the observation blind’s windows. We wove through the nature preserve, spending some time watching herons and ospreys at Tubby Cove and spotting a young deer on Deer Inn Trail. The latter trail had was full of mosquitos, but the view of Frying Pan Cove, where the Chester River meets the Chesapeake Bay, is so perfect that it was worth the bites. The deer, too, was a surprise. I insisted that it had to be fake, but Dan–the logical one–maintained that no one would plant a fake deer on a trail in a wildlife refuge. “If it was real it would have moved by–” I was cut off by the deer moving its head and running away. Our last stop was the Butterfly Garden and the trail there. We sat at a picnic table next to the garden where I’d eaten lunch four years prior during a day of community service with my college. I’d volunteered to help with Into the Streets and freshmen move-in and I’d ended up fixing up the trail and spreading mulch with a handful of first-year students. Being back there and seeing how much the garden grew was impressive, and sharing the spectacular view with Dan was even better. He takes stunning nature photographs, too, so even with the few butterflies present that late in the season, he managed to get some great shots. We drove back into town to Java Rocks, the café owned by our innkeepers, and split a roast beef panini. I was impressed with my ability to enjoy the sandwich as it was a bit fancier than the fare I typically choose–it had a horseradish sauce and cole slaw, the latter of which I’m usually completely against.

The early start to our day meant that we had a few hours to kill before our sunset cruise, so we relaxed with our books by the saltwater pool. Half the guests of the bed and breakfast had the same idea as two other couples already had the comfier chairs. The cool nights had made the water quite chilly, but after a long while in the sun, I gave in and slowly made my way down the stairs into the frigid water. I lost my nerve, though, and went back to the chair after about fifteen minutes of trying to will myself under the water. By this point, we both had a decent sunburn on our faces, and the sun continued to bake us. Dan decided that he was ready to take on the water, and the other couples had vacated the pool area; before I knew it, we were in the middle of the pool, splashing and toying with the idea of complete immersion. It was quick, it was refreshing, and I have no idea why I did it. Sure, Memorial Day weekend, I had braved 57 degree ocean to swim, but that was different. When I asked Dan why I was back in the freezing pool with wet hair, he responded, “Because you have a complex.” It might be true. Regardless, I had the pleasure of following up that refreshing dip with a warm bath and a glass of red wine.

Describing the sunset cruise is difficult. I could go chronologically and talk about the trouble finding the dock, how overdressed we felt because we wanted to look nice for each other, how difficult it is to climb into a boat in a dress, our social awkwardness, or something like that, but I think there is only one way to illustrate how amazing the experience was.

We followed the cruise with a delicious dinner at Waterman’s. Instead of ordering way too much food as I am prone to do, I stuck with a reasonable portion. The food was delicious, but after such an active day filled with nothing but the outdoors, we were exhausted. We didn’t stay for the band playing on the patio, nor did we stop for ice cream in town. We went back to the bed and breakfast and got ready for bed. After a few minutes of reading, we were ready to pass out. I didn’t even have the energy to wait until midnight so I could open my birthday presents!